Between Wrath and Harmony

[NomadGaia 930]

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    The stone walls were stained a sinister crimson, and one lone bead of blood trailed below it, reaching somewhere halfway between the floor and the mark. Nearby, the statues of Cernunnos and Cerridwen stood, illuminated only by dim candlelight. Before them sat a small basin of still water, motionless before them. Before them, a small, troubled girl sat, blood dripping from her knuckles where they had collided with the wall. It had been months since she had last sent a prayer to the heavens, months since she knelt before them and tried speaking, and it showed on her form. Beneath her eyes, dark circles took place. Her hair was cut short, uneven. Her robes were unwashed, uncared for. This had not been the first night she lashed out in her own quarters, striking at walls or the occasional glass. She had hardly even tended to the orphanage, allowing her other staff to tend to the children out of fear of herself. Like many as of late, she was taken by rage at the actions of her fellow members of the faith.

    Words hissed at her from every corner of her mind, pricking and pinching at her psyche. Voices that were not her own screamed at her curses that set her skin aflame, and sent the hairs on the back of her neck upright in chills. Months ago, she had been angry that she had done nothing, that through her gentleness, corruption had been allowed to take root in her faith and in her city. She had believed her passivity made her weak, a coward that simply allowed things to be. And it was true, yes. But when she had turned to strike with an iron fist, the world cried out ‘brute’, and she could not fathom why. And this brought her here, in her room where she sat alone.

Awaiti struck out with a roar, flipping the basin into the ceiling, causing a cascade of water to pour over her. It landed with a clatter, and she only found herself drenched, seething. Water quietly dripped from her chin as she looked forward between the statues. She did not understand what she had done wrong, nor what to do. She would not pray, no. No longer would she sit and just hope for things to improve. She looked to the lessons she had learned once more, hoping to find some missed truth to guide her.

    “The faith needs compassion and mercy more than anything, Awaiti. The Naelurir needs you to be you.”

    The words Artimec spoke to her rang out in her ears. It only infuriated her more. Compassion does not keep your people safe in the night. Compassion does not serve as a shield when a man decides to cut you down! Compassion is weak.

    She thought back, remembering the screams she had heard in the square, the people that cursed her down, roared at her when she struck back against a creature that defied her faith. She had done right by her faith that day, she told herself. She had upheld the tenants of the Naelurir and fought a creature that defied nature. But in doing so, she was roared down, ridiculed, insulted. Called a failure by her own people. She did not understand why, she had finally stood up for what she believed in, but she certainly did not get the reaction she expected. Compassion had not worked. Cruelty had not worked. Kindness had not worked. Brutality had not worked. Nothing she tried worked.

    Awaiti rose with trembling legs, moving over to her bag. She rooted around, staining the side of the bag red as she moved her hand inside. She took out a jar, uncorking it to which she withdrew a small herb. She reached in again, taking out a small pipe, which she put the herb inside of, lighting it up. Shaking, she placed the pipe in her mouth, taking a deep breath of the smoke. Smoke filled the room as the minutes passed, and eventually, the room began to spin and spiral before Awaiti fell back against the bed, collapsing against the frame.

    When she awoke, the cave had opened into a dark, cloudy sky, where thunder cracked off in the distance. Thick haze filled her vision, and smoke clouded the air around her. Around the new island, a deep black sea threatened to swallow the island as heavy waves crashed against the sides of the rock, spraying the air with water. She scrambled to her feet, looking around. In the distance, water and air swirled together in the form of a hurricane, howling louder than a hundred wolves. There was nothing else around for as far as the eye could see, only her small island in the sea.

    She was completely vulnerable to the storm. She had nothing that could save her. It grew ever closer, the waves around her island reaching new heights that threatened to swallow her whole. She could not face the storm, she could not fight it. Raw force would not save her. She could not run. Nor could she cry out to the gods. Mercy would not help her today. In the inevitability of the coming storm, she merely collapsed to her knees, bowing before the storm. The earth beneath her hands parted as she dug her hands into the stone. And then she merely breathed a moment, allowing the world to howl and cry. Allowing the waves to crash into the island. She only breathed. And all became clear just before the hurricane hit.

    All at once, the girl erupted into fae energies, causing a cascade of white and green light to reach out, creating a shell around her. But it did not stop there, reaching out even further to the storm that now engulfed the island. The waves crashed against the tendrils of light, and against the shell that surrounded her, but did not touch her. At this, she stood, crying out into the storm as the energies mixed with the gale, creating a typhoon of water and light that danced around her. She stood in marvel, standing silently as the shell began to envelop the island. Slowly, the eye of the storm reached the island, and all was quiet. Awaiti could see the storm all around her, swirling. But it was no longer dark. While the storm was upset, raging around her, the energy had silenced all but a gentle breeze. She was in control of the storm, through her own will and power. It was not chaotic, nor was it quite peaceful. It was in an odd place, somewhere between wrath and harmony.

    Awaiti stood, and quietly whispered

    “Fall.”

    And the storm flipped on itself. All at once, water surrounded Awaiti in waves and crashes, and the world fell in on itself. She could see the ocean in every direction, east and west, up and down. All the water had mixed with the light, and before long, settled beneath her. The hurricane did not finish whirling though, and the island sat now in the center of a maelstrom, which raged around her powerfully, yet silently. And all faded into darkness. The girl awoke, glancing about the darkened room. Roots had bitten through the walls, poking down into the cavern. She slowly sat up, lowering her head before she thought to herself.

 

“True power comes from somewhere between wrath and harmony-... I am no longer Sister Orison who prays, I must be more than that. But I will not be held by violence. I must fall between, and lay in the eye of the storm."

"I am Sister Hurricane.”

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((Hey everyone, just doing a quick little post to signify the change of Awaiti's totem, leave some feedback if you'd like))

[Sky 0]

[LaviniaTheRider 60]

Lavinia would make tea for her daughter, not seeming to fully understand her choice in change, but not minding it. She does what she can to comfort the girl, and if this is what gives her strength and makes her smile again, brings light back to her eyes, the one-legged druid does not mind a bit.

[AGP 3169]

"There ain't nothing harmonious about hurricanes," says Constantine.

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.